A/N: Written for emilyjunklegacy.

Beca's musical taste is fairly eclectic. Looking through her vinyl, it's immediately apparent that her taste spans multiple genres and decades, though her organizational system still baffles Chloe, despite the fact that Beca has tried to explain it to her numerous times. It must make sense to her though, because Chloe can pull a record out from anywhere and once it's done playing, Beca will take it and place it back in the exact same spot without so much as a second glance to make sure it is the right spot. She knows it is.

Which makes sense, because her record collection happens to be something that Beca Mitchell is insufferably proud of. Egotistically so. She has, in fact, gone as far as referring to herself as a 'music connoisseur' in the past. More than once. And that isn't something that Chloe's about to argue, but it does make her giggle a bit.

Beca tends to act a little snobbish when it comes to the music she exposes her ears to, but Chloe knows exactly how big of an 'act' that really is.

Because she's looked closely enough at Beca's collection to find those unexpected editions scattered throughout. Far enough away from each other that they might be missed individually, but not by Chloe. Because Chloe is a self-proclaimed 'fangirl' and she doesn't believe for one second that Beca owns the 'Red' album because "I like how it looks". Not when Chloe also finds 'Speak Now' and '1989' in there as well.

She doesn't tease Beca, not exactly. Not about her hidden love for Taylor Swift anyway. If anything, she gives her a bit of a hard time for being such a lying liar, but that's it. After that conversation though, Taylor Swift starts cropping up more and more often in Beca's life. Largely because Chloe takes to putting one of her songs on whenever she enters a room, something that inevitably ends with Beca rolling her eyes at the redhead, but she does it with the kind of smile that tells Chloe she's secretly enjoying it. Even if she'll never say.

And she thinks that maybe Beca has a soft spot for Taylor for a reason. That maybe there's some connection there that goes deeper than she's willing to admit.

The first time Chloe breaks into '22', gliding into the kitchen sometime in the afternoon, Beca looks up from her laptop screen wearing that same bewildered expression she had been when she'd once asked Chloe, "You know David Guetta?"

"We're happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time." Chloe arches an eyebrow and smiles as Beca's eyes follow her journey around the side of the couch. She draws out the "oh, yeah" with a wink and then stops in front of Beca. "Tonight's the night when we forget about the deadlines." Then she presses her fingertips to the back of the laptop screen and slowly starts closing the lid, eye's never leaving Beca's as the brunette continues to stare at her a little strangely, but makes no effort to brush off Chloe's advances. "It's time." In this case, it's time to let a slightly unhinged redhead drag her around the relatively small space of the living room as she belts out the chorus with enough feeling to convince Beca that "okay, I get it, you're feeling twenty-two! Can you like, put me down now?"

It becomes kind of a thing then. Whenever they're alone, just the two of them, and sometimes Chloe doesn't even realise she's doing it to begin with.

"That I can't even see anyone when he's with me." She's lying across the couch with her head in Beca's lap, reading over a Russian Lit textbook while Beca taps away one-handed on the laptop she has balanced on the arm. "He says he's so in love," the hand Beca has resting against the top of Chloe's head shifts a little, "he's finally got it right." Fingers ghosting over her crown almost absently, but Chloe's hyper aware of them. "I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night." She doesn't think Beca's paying attention, which is why she jumps a little when Beca speaks.

"Can you, not, sing that one?" And Chloe turns bright blue eyes towards Beca's surprisingly solemn face, but Beca looks away. Back at the screen, obviously uncomfortable. "Sorry, I just-"

"I say, "Can you believe it?" As we're lying on the couch," and just like that, all the shadows are gone from Beca's face, "The moment I could see it." And the corners of Beca's lips curl until her smile is the smile of a person trying to do the exact opposite, and failing spectacularly. She looks back down at Chloe and something behind Chloe's chest expands. Explodes. And her own smile is wide as she sings, "Yes, yes, I can see it now."

And when the tables turn and she finds Beca confidently crooning, "We're a crooked love, in a straight line down," without flinching away from eye contact, actually initiating it for once and being the one refusing to let it drop for a change, Chloe feels giddy. And so, so happy.

So much so, that she doesn't really hesitate when Beca walks into her bedroom and catches her softly singing, "And that's how it works. It's how you get the girl, girl." She just keeps on working her way further into the song, "Remind me how it used to be." As her feet take her further into Beca's irresistible personal bubble. "With pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks." And she smiles, almost smirks, "And say you want me," as she tucks a lock of dark hair behind Beca's ear and wonders at the glint in her eyes. "And then you say-"

Beca sings the rest of the song silently, against Chloe's lips. Pours each word, each lyric into her mouth and hits every mute note with tentative strokes of her tongue. Strokes that turn sure and slow when Chloe rests her hands against Beca's hips, squeezing gently and pulling her closer.

When they finally break away, breathless and beaming, Chloe has enough brain power left to shakily whisper, "That's how you got the girl."